Unchained (Dark Shifter Romance) (8 page)

Still, he had no way of explaining it. Instead, Jack snorted at what Mark had just said. "What do you know about elegant?" he teased.

He expected Mark, ever the smart mouth, to come back at him with another jib, but instead, the other wolf was simply watching the cabin with that thoughtful expression on his face. "I can appreciate elegance when I see it,” he said, though his voice was low and absent minded. "Yeah, I get it."

Jack wondered what it was that Mark was thinking about, but then the other wolf changed the topic, and their conversation fell back into the easy ebb and flow of small talk that had been thought lost forever.

When they got back to the cabin, the main room was empty. Jack felt a jolt of fear and confusion run through him at the sight of the empty bed, its covers tossed back. She'd left? It was dangerous for her out there. She hadn't even shifted once, she didn't have the wolf senses there to lead her. Without him to guide her, she'd stumble into a shifter, or, worse, Colt himself.

He clenched his fists. He had to go after her, and he had to bring her back.

Mark looked at his face with confusion. "What’s up, boss?"

Before Jack could answer, he heard the sound of water coming from the bathroom. Lacey stepped back into the room, her face still damp. The rush of relief that flowed into him was nearly palpable, his heart beating hard from the ghostly thoughts of her, lost and alone in the woods.

"That was a short walk," Lacey said, and sat back down on the bed across from the two of them, her expression still closed off.

"Yeah, it was, babe." Lacey scowled at the pet name, but Mark grinned even wider. "We covered the salient points though, got all our ducks in a row."

He strode across the room towards her, and Jack couldn't help but notice the defensive squaring of her shoulders as he approached. Mark stopped by the bed, looking down, and then whistled. He picked up the chain still attached to the bed head, swinging around in his hands. "Looks like Jack here knew what he was after."

Lacey's eyes shot to Jack where he still stood in the doorway, and there was now a hint of fear in them. Jack frowned. "Come on, leave her alone."

Mark tilted his head this way and that, as if he was weighing up the pros and cons of what Mark had said. "No, I don’t think so,” he said. "You don't want to drag this out, boss. You want to get this over and done with quickly." He made a short sharp gesture. “Quick and fast, like a Band-Aid."

Mark was standing right by her, swinging the chain, but Lacey looked at Jack instead. "What is he talking about?" she asked, her voice flinty.

Mark cut in before Jack could say anything. "You see, babe, my boss here’s a bit of a soft touch." He sat down heavily next to her on the bed, his thigh brushing against hers. Lacey still bore the flinty expression of suspicion on her face, but Jack could see the slight change in her body posture, suddenly sharp and defensive. She was trying to keep her fear and suspicion reined in, but he knew that from as close as Mark was her, the other shifter could easily pick up the fear she was radiating.

Mark grinned. "See, the big guy here went a little bit nuts after all of his pack were killed. You can't be an alpha without a pack, after all. And that's where you come in." He walked his fingers across the bare curve of Lacey's shoulder. She slapped his hand, but it only made him grin wider. "You were already turned, so I suppose he thought there was no harm no foul, right? He could use you as a substitute pack, and that would stop him from going completely fucking insane, just for a little while.

Mark’s words were true, but Jack still didn't like with this was going. There was a tension in the room that hadn't been there before, something dark and foreboding growing between the three of them. He stepped forward, ready to tell Mark to back off, but Lacey glared at him. "Is this true?"

Jack nodded. "There was no way I could face Colt while being overcome with grief," he explained. He tried to keep his voice even and logical, but every word seemed to fire new sparks of anger in her eyes, regardless of the calmness of his tone. "Having a pack behind you is-- it's more than just having backup. It’s like part of your soul." He put his hand over his sternum, pressing down over the feel of his heartbeat, pumping as hard as if he were running a marathon. "If I, mourning my whole pack, tried to go up against Colt, with his whole pack behind him? I'd lose. No matter how hard I fought, I'd lose. It's like having your heart cut out of you while it’s still beating." He locked eyes with Lacey. "I needed to make him pay, but I couldn't do it by myself."

"And that's where you came in!" Mark slung an arm around Lacey's shoulders, pulling her close against him, ignoring the spikiness of her body language. "He was going to get you to bond with him, even just a little, and then be on his merry way. You're a means to an end, baby."

It was all true. Jack couldn't deny it, as much as he would have liked to. But as Lacey shot a furious glare at him from across the room, he found himself trying to explain himself. It had started off as a simple, desperate attempt at revenge, but… But something else had happened. The two of them had only been together for such a short time, but Jack's little experiment had gone wrong.

Instead of binding her to him, like a submissive bitch, they’d begun to bind to each other.

As much as Jack wished that hadn't happened, messing up his plans and introducing new problems of their own, it
had
happened. When Lacey had pushed down against the bed, her eyes blazing as they bore into his own, he'd felt her heart beating alongside his, and he'd known.

They hadn't responded like a submissive and an alpha. They bonded like alphas with a fated mate bond, vital and irreversible. He swallowed, hard. "It's not just like that," he began, but there was no sympathy in Lacey’s hard gaze.

Mark gave Lacey what looked like a friendly shake, grinning all the time, but the tension ratcheted higher between the three of them. "But now he has me!" Mark said, his voice light and airy. "And that means he doesn't need you, babe."

Jack felt Lacey’s fear echo within him, even as her face remained impeccably neutral. "So you're getting rid of me."

“No.” Jack crossed his arms.

Mark raised an eyebrow at Jack, his expression suddenly annoyed. "Yeah, he is. Look, boss, I know you must've got a little bit attached-- I mean, look at her! She’s a good choice. But I'm back now, you don't need her."

It was true. He didn't need his plans any longer.

But he needed her, all the same.

But alpha bonds required the approval of the pack. From the flinty aggressive tone underlying Mark’s disposition, Jack knew that that wasn't going to happen. Mark had lost his entire pack save for his alpha. The last thing he wanted was some new bitch waltzing in as if she could replace the whole pack by herself, taking his alpha away from him again.

"Back off, Mark," he said, crossing his arms and squaring his shoulders. "Leave her alone."

"No, no, it's fine." Lacey shook off Mark’s arm and got to her feet. “You don't need me for your little revenge plan any more. That's fine. There's a reason I came here, and I was stupid to let you distract me from it.”

She made as if to step away, but Mark dragged her back down, dropping her against the mattress and knocking the breath from her lungs. Jack froze, suddenly drowning in the urge to step in and protect Lacey.

Not that she needed much protecting. "The fuck was that for?" she spat, trying to struggle away from Mark’s iron grip on her wrist. The sight of his hand wrapped painfully around her own made Jack's hackles rises, but even as his protective instincts came to the floor, he felt the guilty residue of the hypocrisy of his own actions. He grabbed her just like that, he remembered. It had made sense to him when he'd done it, wanting to prevent her from leaving or from challenging him, but now… now the thought of it set his insides churning.

He didn't want
anyone
to touch her like that.

Lacey's eyes shot back to Jack, a hint of pleading now visible in their wide brown depths. "Hey, ‘boss’? Make your fleabag flunky here let me go."

Mark looked up at Jack, and then shook his head as he saw the look of anger rising on Jack's face. "You can't be serious, Jack," he explained. "You can't just let her go, you know." With his free hand, he reached out to grab Lacey by the scar wound on her shoulder. She let out a hiss and shook him off, but he redoubled his efforts, clutching one hand across the wound left by Colt. "You know where she’s going to go if you cast her out. She's got to be bound to someone, and there's only one other alpha game in town."

"That doesn't matter," Jack growled.

"It doesn't matter?" Mark looked at Jack as if he was seeing him for the first time. "Colt might have been content to let you run around, getting off to how much pain he thought you're in, but if he finds out that you're not in pain? If he finds out that you've got a second in command, and you're planning on taking him down? I think that does matter."

He dragged his fingers across the silvery jagged lines of Lacey’s scar, ignoring her snarl. "Without you promising her pack bond, she's gotta run off to the only other alpha in town, and then he’ll make her spill, man. He’s gonna drag his pack of assholes straight here with the directions she gives him, and then they’re just gonna kill us. No fight, no duel, they're just flat out going to kill us. Colt likes toying with people, but he's not stupid. He knows that with me backing you up, you stand a chance at taking him down in an alpha duel."

Jack knew what Mark was saying. Worse, it made sense. If Lacey left, she’d be drawn to Colt. It didn’t matter if she wanted to or not— she was a made wolf on the verge of her very first transformation, inexperienced and naive. When her wolf instincts craved an alpha, they’d take her straight to him. From there, Colt would find out about Jack, and then his plot for revenge would be over.

But if Lacey stayed, Mark would leave, and the last remaining member of his pack would desert him. It would be like losing his pack all over again.

He hesitated, and that was enough for Lacey.

“You know what? Forget it.” Lacey kicked Mark off of her and scrambled off of the bed, backing up towards the cabin door. Mark stepped forward, hand outstretched to catch her, but was met with twin growls: both Lacey and Jack, warning him off of touching her.

“Leave her alone,” Jack warned, steel in his voice.

“Yeah, Mark,” Lacey mocked, her voice sing-songing the words. “Leave her alone.”

Despite her attempts at bravado, Jack could see right through her. Her eyes were wide, her adrenaline racing. She was alone in a cabin with a wolf who wanted to kill her, and another who she thought would agree. Someone she’d grown close to.

“Lacey,” Jack began, but she cut him off.

“No, don’t fucking bother,” she snarled. When he made to open his mouth again, she bared her teeth. “If you come near me, I’m going to scream as loud as I can,” she threatened. “It won’t take long for those other assholes to find you then, will it?”

Mark shuffled on his feet, uncertain, and looked to Jack for guidance. Jack ignored him. “Stay with me,” he said, and his voice held everything he couldn’t put into words.

Lacey let out a dark laugh, but he could see the tears threatening to spill. “I should have known you were just as much of a monster as the rest of them.” She opened the door behind her, and stepping outside.

And then she was gone.

Lacey had to think of her sister.

It was the reason she had got herself into the town, her entire reason for being there. She should have never left herself get distracted. As soon as Jack had opened her collar for the first time, leading her through the forest to bathe, she should have taken that chain and wrapped it around his neck.

She wiped hot tears away from her cheeks, and continued to head towards the town. It all seemed so clear now. The man she was leaving behind was just as dangerous as the man who had scarred her shoulder, both of them monsters. She'd allowed herself to get pulled off track, distracted by the magnetic pull between the two of them. But now, she was going to do what she'd set out to do in the first place.

For anyone else, finding their way through the forest to her childhood home would have been an arduous task. But Lacey had grown up in this forest, and knew the twists and turns of the trees and river as well as the back of a hand, even after all this time. It seemed like only yesterday that her and Jenny had played in the woods with the other children in the town, pretending to be cowboys and Indians, cops and robbers, and werewolves and vampires.

She grimaced bitterly. Yeah, that one had seemed fun, back in the day. Now, though? Not so much.

Jack had warned her to be careful when they'd first come into the town for supplies, and as much of a bastard as he's turned out to have been, Lacey didn't throw his advice to the wind. Finding Mark was proof enough that they were still wolves out in the town, even if she hadn't seen or heard any.

And… and there was something in the air that told her that she wasn't alone. It wasn't the skin-prickling sensation of eyes watching you, but there was something… Something told her that there were other people out there.

Absent-mindedly, she slid a hand up to the scar on her shoulder. Somewhere along the way, it had started aching in some strange way she couldn't quite put her finger on. It didn't hurt like a wound, but there was some strange feeling blossoming within her. It was like some invisible undertow, pulling her towards something she didn't quite understand. Pulling her towards Colt, maybe.

Or maybe everything that Jack had told her had been a complete lie. Who knew? Whatever. Setting her shoulders, she pushed through the trees of the forest, headed home.

She turned a corner, and there it was. If it weren't for her current situation, she knew she would have let out a cry of… what? Surprise, or grief, or heartache of some indescribable sort. There was something cruel in the process of growing up, of your home slowly becoming somewhere strange and foreign to you.

She recognised every part of it: the fences, their shingles on the roof, never quite fixed, despite her father's promises that he’d do it one day. From where she was hiding behind a neighbour's fence, she couldn't see much of the house itself, but every little detail sent knives stabbing into her heart.

It all looked so familiar, but at the same time, it looked so… small, like it was an illustration of a children's book, friendly and familiar, but at the same time, unreal. When she'd moved out, ready to start her own life, she'd always imagined that she could come back, if she'd wanted. But now that she had, something imperceptibly had changed about it. It was no longer the place that she had left. Even though it was identical, it felt like it was no longer hers.

God, was she crying again? Angry, Lacey rubbed her tears away with the heel of a hand, furious with herself. Her childhood home looked exactly she had left it, but she knew it wasn't. She knew that there was no chance she would find Jenny alive in there, opening the door with a smile and inviting her in. The house was silent, the windows dark. It was like the entire neighbourhood was a graveyard.

She even remembered where the trick board in the fence was. How many times that she crept secretly out of the yard when she was younger? She didn't remember. But if she put her hand
here
, and pushed
here
…

The board in the fence swung upward, giving her just enough space to wriggle through. She fought the urge to laugh. When she was a child she'd been able to slip through the gap in the fence with no problem at all, but now she had to contort herself, twisting her shoulders and hips to fit through. She felt a little like Alice in Wonderland, everything the wrong size.

And then it was just her, and her house. She didn't want to go inside, but she knew she had no choice. She has come all this way to check if her sister was okay, picturing her in the middle of some flood or power outage, out of sorts but ultimately okay. But the sight of the bodies in the town when she first got there– there was no possibility. If it had been her father, she knew there would have been a better chance… but no, it was too late for wishes and would-have's.

Holding her breath despite herself, Lacey stepped up to the back door. She toed aside the welcome mat, and fought to stop herself from laughing. Even the spare key was exactly where it had been, in the least sneaky place possible. Picking it up, she let herself inside.

She looked around her familiar childhood home as if it were a stranger to her. Everything seemed the same as when she'd left it, but there were a few little touches to let her know that things had changed. Her father's favourite armchair was still there, overstuffed and well worn, but instead of his gun magazines in a pile next to it, there were fantasy books. Instead of her mother’s doilies and knick-knacks dotting every surface, there were chargers and gadgets.

But there was no body. There was a really only one possibility for what happened to Jenny, but Lacey was still dreading finally seeing it. But the only other alternative was even worse-- if Jenny's body wasn't in the house, then she was going to have to look for it. She wouldn't leave until she knew what had happened to her little sister.

The window in the living room was broken, shards of glass littering the carpet. Lacey swallowed. The shards being inside the house meant that the blow that broke the window must have come from outside…

What had happened? She walked along the floor boards of the hallway, ready to turn towards the stairs and check out the bedroom, but she paused.

She could hear a heartbeat.

"Lacey?"

Lacey spun on her heel, her heart racing in her chest. At the other end of the hallway, Jenny was half in and half out of a hatch in the floor, a rifle in her hands, staring at Lacey as if she had seen a ghost. "Lacey?!"

Lacey wanted to ask so many questions-- what was that hatch, was Jenny okay, how, what, where it-- but all the words lodged in her throat, choking each other. With a noise of with the wind noise, she drew herself down the hallway, skidding to a halt in front of the hatch on the floor, pulling her younger sister into her arms. Jenny scrambled out of the hatch, standing on some unseen ladder beneath her, and then there was only tears.

"How did you-- where did you open-- how--" Jenny seem to be having the same problem that Lacey was, too many questions starting and none of them finishing. Lacey shook her head, pulling her younger sister tighter, burying her head on her shoulder. Inside her, that strange magnetic pull within her chest had flared up into a supernova.
Jenny
. Jenny was all right. She wasn't dead, she wasn't even hurt. She was here, exactly where she should be, in Lacey's house, in Lacey's arms. The feeling inside her chest was, for just one moment, perfect.

Eventually, she settled herself down. There was so much she wanted to ask, but she settled for something unimportant. "What the hell is that?" she asked, giggling through her tears. "Did you make a bomb shelter or something?"

Jenny laughed, and let her go. She pulled herself out of the mysterious hole, letting Lacey think out into what looked like in the long shelter, four brick walls and a bed and boxes and nothing much else. "As if I did that," she laughed. "You know how dad was always talking about how he wanted to build a shelter?"

Lacey stared. "He really did it? Oh my God, he must have been bored. "

"Hey, it beat fishing or knitting," Jenny laughed. "And, you know, I’m pretty happy about it. I can't see fishing or knitting helping me out like this."

Lacey was overwhelmed with a wave of sadness, washing over her at the mention of their father. Even from beyond the grave, he'd saved his daughter from forces he couldn't even comprehend, let alone prepare for. More than anything, she wished he'd been there to see how it had turned out, his two daughters safe and found because of his hard work.

But he wasn’t there, so Lacey had to step up to the plate. "What happened?"

Jenny stretched her legs, cracking her shoulders. "Well, I've been in a hole for the last two weeks. I can't really tell you much of what's been happening.” Her face brightened, overjoyed. "But I am gonna go upstairs and grabbed some new clothes."

The two of them climbed the stairs to the second floor, shoulder to shoulder. "Yeah, you are a little on the ripe side."

Jenny scowled, shoving Lacey in mock anger. "Hey, you try living in a hole for a couple of weeks, see how fragrant you are at the end of it. Dad did what he could with plumbing stuff, but it’s still not exactly a five star resort. "

It had been a few years since Lacey had seen Jenny's bedroom, but not much had changed. The cute soft toys were still arranged in a pile by the bed, but now there were other additions to show the strain of adulthood-- bills, piled up on the corner table, dress shoes for work.

Whenever she called in the past, Lacey had asked Jenny how she'd been doing, living in the family home without their parents, but Jenny had always shook her off with non-committal answers. Now Lacey trailed her hands over a pile of mail, trying not to feel guilty. "How have you been doing?" she asked. "I mean, I know I ask you on the phone, I get the feeling that you might be brushing me off."

Jenny gave her an incredulous look. "The town was invaded by murderous psychos, and you want to ask me about my lifestyle?" She snorted, ransacking her drawers for socks and underwear. "You always had an incredible sense of timing, Lacey."

Lacey let out a laugh. "I guess you're right. Sorry, it's been… well, it's been a strange couple of days. Want to fill me in on the details?"

Letting out a sigh and exhaling heavily, Jenny dropped down on her bed. "I don't know much," she said. "The radio doesn't work very well down there in the basement. All I know is that I heard screams coming from down the road…" She paused, tossing a balled-up pair of socks from hand to hand idly, her eyes fixed on the ceiling, expressionless.

"'Psychos?'" Lacey guessed.

Jean nodded. "I thought maybe there had been an accident or, like, old lady Matthews down the road had finally kicked the bucket, something that needed medical attention and the authorities…”

Her eyes narrowed, seeing memories that Lacey could only guess at. “I saw… people. Well, mostly people. Do you know what I’m talking about, or do I have to figure out how to put this into words?”

Lacey sat down next to her on the bed, putting her head in her hands. She sighed. "Oh, believe me, I know. No explanation needed on that front."

Jenny leaned her weight against Lacey, a warm, comforting presence. "So, I saw all the gore, and I ran the fuck back inside. Locked the doors, called the cops, and grabbed my bug-out bag, just like dad said." She laughed, shakily. "He always made it sound so easy, I thought it would be a matter of following procedure. But seeing the carnage on the streets…"

She rested her head back against the pillow, her eyes shut. She exhaled. "I got down into his little bunker, and I latched the hatch, and then I think I cried for like a day straight. I wasn't sure when to come out, you know? Every so often I'd think that it must all be over, that the cops must have got everything under control. But the idea of coming out and running straight into
them
, even with this...” She gestured with the rifle. “I couldn’t do it. I just stayed down there in the dark like an asshole instead of seeing if anyone needed help."

"Hey." Lacey nudged her. "You did what you had to do. And believe me, there wasn't much else you could have done."

"That's what I told myself," Jenny said. "It still doesn’t feel good, though." She opened her eyes again, looking up at Lacey with something besieging her expression. "How bad were the casualties, do you know?"

"I'm not sure." Lacey frowned, trying to think what she'd seen. "It looked real bad. I don't know when they’ll be able to get this under control."

Jenny froze. Slowly, as if caught in a dream, she looked up at Lacey, locking eyes with her. "Lacey," she asked, her voice flat. "This problem has been fixed, hasn’t it? That's why you're here, right?"

Lacey hadn’t expected to find Jenny alive. All the planning she’d done on the walk over had involved IDing her body, then getting out of town, trying to hit civilisation again without running into any shifters.

Finding Jenny alive had blind-sided her. Her warm, comforting presence had temporarily set aside the threat, and once free of her fear, she’d let her sister take the lead, chatting normally. It had been a mistake.

“Shit,” Lacey managed.

Slowly, with that same liquid stillness and economy of movement of the truly horror-struck, Jenny sat up in bed, nearly face-to-face with her sister. "Are they still outside?" she asked in a whisper.